


Rules of Codependency

by thebookthief



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Canon Related, Character Study, F/M, Light BDSM, Rape/Non-con Elements, Roughness, Sexual Abuse, Sibling Incest, Vergercest, Violence, what happens between Mason and Margot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1618460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebookthief/pseuds/thebookthief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margot allows Mason to ravage her for the last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules of Codependency

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small fic aimed at filling the gaps the show left. What happens between the Verger siblings behind closed doors.
> 
> P.S. It all stemmed from my desire to kill Mason Verger, but also from an equally strong need to bite Michael Pitt's lips. Such a conundrum.

_I am a master hunter I cured my skin, nothing gets in_

_Nothing not as hard as it tries_

\- **_Laura Marling, Master Hunter_**

 

 

The horse neighed when its left hind leg slipped on a newly-formed ice. Margot Verger jumped to the ground and gave Lucky a carrot, stroking its mane to calm it down. She inhaled crisp January air. The cold cleansed her head, ridding it of all the dark and aggressive thoughts that threatened to overcome her. She felt inner peace for the first time in ages and it scared her. Was this coldness a sure sign of her losing her mind? Did this indifference towards the idea of killing her elder brother Mason make her a psychopath? She rubbed the scar on the back of her neck, still fresh after her sibling's last tantrum. Did she deserve it? Was she an evil little thing thing he always called her?

She led the horse back to the stables. Margot was removing her gear when she felt a leather-gloved hand grab her shoulder from behind. She knew these fingers. She had multiple red fingerprints all over her body to prove it. She did not turn around.

“Did you enjoy the ride, my love?” Mason's voice was playful. It sent shivers down Margot's spine.

“I missed you so much during my brief vacation. Did Carlos take care of the pigs?”

“Yes.”

“Look at me when we're talking. How can you be so rude?” Mason jerked her towards him, pressing her to his chest. “Do you need another lesson in manners?”

Margot smiled, trying to regain this inner peace she felt just minutes ago. She knew that her brother was as much of an animal as the ones he trained to do awful, unimaginable things. She had years of practice in trying to tame him. She had a few tricks.

Margot put a soothing hand on Mason's cheek and smiled at him reassuringly.

“No, brother, I still remember what you taught me last time. You're so good at explaining yourself.”

“Don't try to sweet-talk me. I know what kind of beast you are.” He grabbed his sister's hand in his, pushing it against his cheek until he started bleeding from five crescent-shaped cuts.

She understood what her next move should be. With her left hand she touched his face to wipe the blood, and licked her red-stained fingers. It tasted like salt and smelled of something rotten. She was all too familiar with her brother's taste. She wondered if she was putrid, too. She was afraid that she already knew the answer.

Mason smiled at Margot hungrily and let go of her hand. She made a few steps back, trying to decipher her brother's intentions from his appearance. He was now unbuttoning his long white fur coat to reveal a light grey shirt and dress pants. He was wearing his heavy working boots covered in manure – he already tended to the pigs. Mason dropped his coat to the ground, quickly closing the space between them. Margot could feel his hot breath on her face. She looked away.

“Do you suddenly have no interest in me, little sister?” he said, cupping her chin in his right hand and jerking it upward.

“I have an interest in clawing your eyes out if that's what you're asking,” the moment she said it Margot realised that it was a mistake.

“Feisty, sweetheart,” Mason's fingers crossed around his sister's throat. She could feel the coldness of his ring with the Verger family crest digging into her skin. She swallowed painfully, trying to inhale as her sibling's grasp became stronger.

“Is he just going to strangle me? Did he get bored with his favourite plaything?” These thoughts were running through her mind as she tried to hit her brother, her vision blurring, her mind turning blank.

Just when she thought that she would pass out, he let go of her and Margot slumped to the floor, clutching her throat and breathing in sharply. But her brother was not done yet. He grabbed her hair and dragged her towards his thrown coat. She almost welcomed its warmth and gagging stench until he dropped to his knees next to her.

“Lie down, little one. The less you fight the less it's going to hurt.” when Margot saw that he was opening his fly she mustered up her strength and kicked him hard in the groin.

He fell backwards and started laughing so hard that he almost choked on his spit.

“You really are keen on making it hard for yourself,” he said and kicked his sister in the ribs so viciously that her vision blacked out. While she was curled in a ball, she saw how her brother quickly shook off his trousers and removed the belt. She anticipated what would happen next as he grabbed her arms and used it to tie them tightly behind her back, turning her face-down.

That's when she understood that she was beaten. Again. She couldn't help crying into the coat of the person she spent most of her life despising. She wanted to be hugged, she wanted to be loved. She wanted to be vicious.

It was as if he could read her thoughts, because the pain she expected never came. Instead, he caressed her back gently.

“I'm almost sorry, Margot. You know that I'm just doing what Papa would have wanted,” he said, and started taking off his sister's pants in spite of her weak attempts to stop him. “I admire your temper. It makes you that more delicious.”

He took out the knife he always carried in his shoe and pushed against Margot, crushing her into the floor. She could feel its cold blade fluttering across her buttocks and prepared herself for the anguish of another deep wound, when in one quick move her brother used it to cut her briefs in half.

He entered her swiftly and ruthlessly, shoving the whole length of his penis inside. After a few pushes, he tugged her head backwards by the braid, which sent sharp pain into her tied arms. His thrusts were short and vicious and he gave her hard slaps across her ass from time to time. She tried to keep silence, not giving him the satisfaction of screaming. Much faster than usual, he withdrew his penis.

“Are you not enjoying it, Margot? Do you want me to untie you? I'll do it if you promise that you won't get too foxy.” He slurred his words, sounding both impatient and disappointed.

“Yes, promise,” There was no point in trying to win this round. “I promise, brother. I'll be good.”

In few swift motions he removed the belt, striking her twice across her back with it. When he turned her over, she saw that he was still erect and thus, it was not over yet. She massaged her hands, trying to send blood into numb fingers. Margot looked into her brother's blue eyes behind his glasses. What was she trying to find there? Hate? Or regret? But they were cold and seemingly empty. His plump lips were curled into a satisfied smile.

“Are you going to help your brother, Margot? Don't make me angry, you know it's not pretty.” He took her hand and guided it towards his dick, moving it along its length. While she worked on him, Margot was looking at the ceiling, counting the beams which held the roof above her head and dreaming of the way they could crush her bones if they fell.

A sloppy kiss on the neck followed by a painful bite woke her up from this reverie. Mason cupped Margot's face and gave her another sloppy, wet kiss, this time on the lips. His tongue was moving inside her mouth like an eel, his grip was so strong that could crush her jaw. Her hand was already sticky when he bit her lower lip, drawing blood and licking it greedily like a dog. When she bit back just as hard, he laughed and pushed her to the floor.

“Play by my rules, Margot. You know you can't win,” he said, thrusting himself into her with a sharp inhale.

This time, he was moving so fast that it was hard for her to breathe and her back quickly got sore from exertion against her brother's coat. Mason's eyes were full of disdain and each thrust felt like punishment, like a whip against her bare skin. She clawed against his chest leaving red marks here and there, and grabbed his messy hair so fiercely that she pulled out a few blond strands. All that seemed to make Mason giddy as he twisted her nipples and sucked on them, biting everywhere like a rabid animal.

He came in her with a shudder and a groan, crushing Margot with his weight as his body went limp. She could try to grab the knife he left beside them, but she knew it was not the right time. So she put her arms around Mason and started to caress his back, thinking about a boy he had been once, before their father started to teach him the rules of his trade. Before he was turned into a butcher, devoid of any compassion or humanity. When she would kill this monster, this boy would die, too. And she would have to live with that.

 

She didn't cry. He would have to drink his martini neat this time.

Margot knew that she would never again let her brother have his way.

 

 


End file.
